


we've not yet lost all our graces

by ghvsts



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hospitals, Injury, M/M, Pining, full moons & the problems they bring, just. the pack being one big family, malia is mentioned!, mutual pining (but scott doesn't realize it), scott is sad but it'll be okay, wrote this in 2018 lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghvsts/pseuds/ghvsts
Summary: stiles, who is stupid and human and scott's best friend, who has been through everything with him, who didn't freak out when scott showed him the bite (or tried not to). stiles, who trusted scott when he said he didn't need the chains anymore, when he said he could control his shift.stiles, who is in a hospital bed because scott put him there.
Relationships: Allison Argent & Scott McCall, Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 126





	we've not yet lost all our graces

**Author's Note:**

> au where scott's the only supernatural one (except Derek), everyone's been friends for years (allison/scott/stiles the longest), allison's dad is still a hunter (but unimportant), and scott is too proud to ask for help (dumbass).
> 
> warnings for: copious use of parentheses, blatant disregard for everything cannon, and little to no knowledge of how long it takes to set a broken bone. 
> 
> this is a fic full of pining and the rating is for general audiences. it's just 2k of scott being sad and in love with his best friend.
> 
> title is from "team" by lorde!

Scott’s been pacing in the hospital waiting room non-stop for the better part of the last three hours. It’s better than sitting, gives him something to channel his anxiety into, but he’s still afraid he might actually wear the floor down at this point. Lydia must be thinking the same thing, or maybe she’s just a good friend, because finally she says, “why don’t you take a seat?” 

Allison pats the chair next to her encouragingly when Scott comes to a halt. “It could be a couple more hours before they let us see him,” Allison says. She sounds tired. 

On closer inspection, Scott can see that they all are. Isaac and Allison arrived at the hospital barely a half-hour after he called them. Lydia came not long after. Their clothes are rumpled, hair messy, bags under their eyes. Scott is suddenly reminded that they do, in fact, have school tomorrow. And it’s late. And they are not supernatural like he is, but they’re here. Scott suspects they’ll even spend the night if they have to, and his heart feels like it’s about to burst. 

God, what did he do to deserve his friends? 

(How has he not driven them away by now?)

Someone touches him lightly on the shoulder from behind and he nearly jumps out of his skin, but it’s just Kira.

(Kira, newest addition to their little group, but who slides into a spot between Allison and Lydia and it’s like she’s always been there. Like there was a Kira-shaped hole in their universe simply waiting for her to come along and fill it.)

“Come on Scott,” she whispers, “it’ll be alright.” He eyes the chair next to Allison again, and maybe they’re right. All he can do is wait. 

And he’s tired. He’s supernaturally strong, but it’s a full-moon and it has been the longest night of Scott’s life. He just wants to rest. He wants to close his eyes and wake up to see Stiles next to him, happy and unbroken, happy and  _ okay _ . 

He sits down heavily and puts his head in his hands. Allison’s arm snakes out to wrap around him and pulls him close. She gently removes his hands from his face and guides his head to rest on her shoulder. “It’s okay,” she says quietly, muffled by his hair. 

For what feels like the first time since he got to the hospital, Scott allows himself to breathe. He inhales slowly, breathing in Allison’s familiar and comforting scent, and closes his eyes. 

* * *

See, here’s the thing. Allison and Stiles are Scott’s best friends. 

He loves Allison, he knows this. Irrevocably and without a doubt, he knows this. But Stiles is different. Has been different since the beginning.

Before it was the seven of them, before they had their pack, it was Scott and Stiles. The two of them against the world since they learned how to walk. ScottandStiles. StilesandScott. Two halves make one whole. 

(Then it was Scott and Stiles and Allison.) 

(Then Scott and Stiles and Allison and Lydia. Now, Scott and Stiles and Allison and Lydia and Isaac and Malia and Kira. Somehow, despite his becoming a werewolf, despite Allison’s father and Isaac’s childhood, despite everything, they’ve all found each other. They’ve all stood by him.)

If Scott depends on his friends, loves them, needs them like air, then Stiles is the sun. They circle each other. (Or, Scott circles Stiles.)

(Or, Scott is a whirlwind and Stiles is his rock. Centre. Anchor.)

* * *

He was supposed to be getting better. Better at this whole control thing, this whole werewolf teen thing. Full moons aren’t—weren’t— supposed to be a problem anymore. 

Scott could probably come up with a million excuses. 

He was too wound up from the bio test he probably failed last period, from a bad lacrosse practice, from worrying about Isaac’s weird behaviour the last few days (he’s been hanging around Derek far too much for anyone to be comfortable with).

Or maybe, he doesn’t have as good a handle on things as he would like to admit, and that’s all there is to it.

Scott, for all he tries, is too proud for his own good. He has to help everyone. Is convinced he has to help everyone. He needs to be the perfect alpha, for his friends, for Beacon Hills, for his mom, for himself, for  _ Stiles _ .

Stiles, who is stupid and human and Scott’s best friend. Stiles, who has been through everything with him, who didn’t freak out when Scott showed him the bite (or tried not to). Stiles, who trusted Scott when he said he didn’t need the chains anymore, when he said he could control his shift. 

Stiles, who is in a hospital bed because Scott put him there. Because he snapped. Lost it. Was too proud. Too cocky. Needed to prove something. (To who? It doesn’t matter.)

It takes Allison shaking his shoulder to make Scott realize his phone is buzzing. Robotically, he pulls it out of his pocket.

_ Low Battery Warning: 10%.  _

Scott ignores this and opens his phone to find a message waiting from Malia. 

**MALIA: any news?**

_ No, he types back, won’t let us see him yet. But we’re all waiting.  _

He hits send.

Then,

_ Are you going to come by? he’ll want to see u  _

Scott chews on his nail while he waits for a response. He’s tried kicking the habit over the years, but it always comes back when he’s stressed. Allison, without looking up from her own phone, swats his hand away from his mouth. 

Besides them, Kira and Lydia have fallen asleep leaning on each other. Isaac, who has barely said two words since they came in, is staring blankly at the wall across the room. Scott is worried about him.

Scott is worried about everyone, constantly. 

His phone buzzes.

**MALIA: no**

**MALIA: but keep me updated**

He frowns. This is new too. If Scott didn’t know Kira and Malia were attached at the hip, he’d say Malia was pulling away from their group. But she’s not. Just him. Just… Stiles?

“Hey,” he nudges Allison. Her eyes fly open and she jerks awake. “Oh,” Scott says sheepishly. “I didn’t know you fell asleep.”

“S’okay,” she murmurs. She rubs her eyes and pushes herself back into a proper sitting position from where’s she’s half slid out of her chair. “What is it?”

“Did Malia and Stiles break up?” 

Allison snorts. “You’re just noticing now? Yeah, like a couple weeks ago. She said it was like, a mutual thing, or whatever.”

Scott should not be feeling happy right now. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

Allison shrugs. “You’ve had a lot on your plate. Maybe he didn’t want you to stress about it.”

“How could I not have noticed?”

“You’ve had a lot on your plate,” she repeats. She offers him a small smile. 

Scott’s mind is racing as he goes through every interaction he’s had with Stiles over the past few weeks. Sure he’s had a lot on his plate, but still, it’s not like him to miss something this big, even as oblivious as he tends to be. 

Maybe Stiles had been a little bit more touchy with him lately, but that’s nothing new for them. Meaningless shit, like holding hands and cuddling and leaning on each other has never been a big deal. 

Well. Never been a big deal for Stiles. Scott, on the other hand. He tries to ignore the way his stomach swoops. 

Scott is disgusted with himself.

First he hurts his best friend, now he’s happy he broke up with his girlfriend? 

Scott groans and leans forward, letting his head fall into his hands again. 

“Hey,” Allison says. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You keep saying that!” He stumbles to his feet, limbs barely cooperating with him.

He feels like he is about to explode. He is a jumbled mess of emotions and a too-little grasp on self-control. 

“You all keep saying that! But it’s not! I did this! Stiles is in here because of me! I broke his arm, Allison. I could’ve done worse. I could have killed him.” Scott thinks he might be crying a little. His chest feels tight in a way in hasn’t felt since he had asthma. He’s shaking. 

He thinks he might be having a panic attack. Or a heart attack. Or maybe it’s finally all become too much and Scott just simply can’t handle it anymore. Maybe he’s finally shutting down. Falling apart. 

Scott sinks to his knees in the middle of the waiting room and Allison sinks with him, wraps his body with hers, protecting him from the rest of the world.

“Shh.” 

Scott squeezes his eyes shut. He feels, rather than hears, Isaac finally stir. A couple moments later, they are joined on the floor by Lydia, Kira, and Isaac. 

This, Scott realizes dimly, is what packs are for. Scott spends all his time trying to be there for them. But they are here for him too.

He is not alone. 

* * *

“Scott. Scotty. Scotty-boy. Look at me, man. Seriously,” Stiles says, “I’m gonna be okay.”

“No offence, but if everyone keeps using that word I am going to lose my mind,” Scott says. 

Kira laughs, then clamps a hand over her mouth like she’s didn’t mean for it to slip out. “Sorry.” Lydia pokes her in the side. “You have terrible bedside manner,” she tells Kira. 

Kira ducks her head. “Sorry,” she says again. She’s bright red. Stiles is smiling. Lydia matches his expression. 

“Look,” Stiles says, drawing Scott’s attention back to him. Even though he’s in a hospital bed, pale and small-looking with his bright blue cast, Stiles still looks cheerful. Scott’s heart hurts. He did this. 

Stiles, oblivious to Scott’s inner-turmoil, lifts his arm slowly. “It doesn’t,” Stiles wiggles his fingers, “even hurt. I’ll be good as new in, like, a month.”

Standing by his head, Melissa raises her eyebrows at him. “Two months,” he amends. “But whatever.”

Eventually Melissa kicks everyone out. “You kids need to get to sleep. You’ve missed enough school, and Stiles will be out of here in no time. Go home.” Somewhat reluctantly, maybe a little gratefully, the others leave the tiny hospital room.

“Text me,” Allison mouths over her shoulder. Scott nods distractedly, attention still directed towards his best friend. Melissa gives him a pointed look, tilting her head towards the clock on the wall, before leaving too. 

Alone at last, Scott pulls up a chair next to the bed. Stiles lets his head loll towards Scott. For a while they just sit there, looking at each other. Stiles has a stupidly soft smile on his face. 

Scott is angry. At himself, at Stiles for trusting him and for not seeming upset (he has every right to be mad), at the wolf that bit him, who started this all. Mostly at himself. 

“Stiles—” his voice breaks. 

He clears his throat. Tries again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” He holds out his good hand and Scott takes it. “But it’s not your fault. No,” Stiles says when he sees Scott open his mouth to protest, “let me finish. It’s not. Your. Fault. I’m not mad. I’m not hurt. Okay, well, I’m a little hurt. But I’ll heal. Look at me, Scott.” 

Scott has trouble meeting his eyes, but when he does, Stiles squeezes his hand. “I’ll heal,” he says. “Maybe not as fast as you would, but I’ll heal. And I get a sick cast out of all this. If you don’t think I’m going to make absolutely everyone sign it, you’re wrong.”

With that, Stiles lets go of his hand and shifts on his bed, getting comfortable. “I love you Scott,” he says quietly, drowsily. 

“I love you too,” Scott says.

And he does. Irrevocably and without a doubt. 

Stiles will be okay. They’ll all be okay. Scott will be okay. 

He drifts off in the chair next to Stiles, next to the boy he loves. (The boy he’ll never hurt again, he swears to himself.)

And it’s okay. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hello! this was written in 2018. i've been rewatching teen wolf recently and remembered i wrote this, reread it, and decided i liked it enough to publish it. it hasn't been edited it at all since i wrote it. i just want it up on my profile bc i. *clenches fist* love teen wolf so much. the nostalgia of it all. 
> 
> (the reunion stream... missing them)  
> i havent written anything in a very long time so it was nice to revisit this and actually kinda enjoy my own work. comments/kudos are much appreciated, but please be kind. thanks for reading!
> 
> i hope everyone is doing well & staying safe. much love
> 
> (p.s., kira and malia... gay and dating??? a concept that is not explored here but just know that i am Thinking)


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